Make It Through The Day?
by Immortal Magic Freak
Summary: Stiles' having a hard day, but no one knows why. When he snaps at someone in the pack, Derek is the one that tries to figure out what happens. But only Stiles can decide if he's going to open up about this part of his life. Only Stiles can decide if he wants to tell Derek. Stiles doesn't want to cry again, but maybe this time...maybe this time, crying could help. But will he talk?


**Authors Note: HEYO! XD Please tell me what you think, I would love to know XD Please, please review XD **

**ALSO Teen Wolf has stopped playing over here in England :'( so we only go up to season 2 – so the last thing I saw was that Jackson became a werewolf – meaning I don't know anything that's happened since D':**

**Stiles **

I _wouldn't _be able to make it through the day! How the fuck could I?! I was sitting on the sofa, in the living room of my house, alone, at 12:30pm. Dad was working a double shift and wouldn't be back until one in the morning. At least dad had something to keep him occupied for the today. Since it was Saturday, and the rest of the pack were occupied with each other, I had nothing else to focus on. Nothing except...

"Yo, Stiles!" a voice called through the house. "Dude, where are you?"

To reply, I just made a quiet noise in the back of my throat. I didn't take notice of whom the voice belonged to, but I wasn't surprised when Scott walked in. My best friend collapsed next to me with a sigh, watching me.

"What's up, dude?" Scott asked when I said nothing. "You're not normally this quiet."

I shrugged, faking a smile. Scott stayed quiet, frowning slightly. I didn't expect him to remember – what with everything that had been going on since we were sixteen –, but at least Scott knew when to just let things go.

"Come on." The Teen Wolf said, jumping up. "Derek called a pack meeting or bonding this. We had to restrain him from running out of the house and sprinting over here. Seriously, not kidding. I'm fine with the you-dating-Derek thing, but I'm sorry, he cannot steal my best friend job!"

I huffed a small laugh at that, smiling sadly. I stood up quietly, following Scott out into my hallway. I grabbed my backpack as we neared the door, slipping into my sneakers on the way too. I grabbed my house keys, but was stopped when I made to take the keys to my Jeep. I frowned slightly as Scott just pushed me outside. When the door to my house was closed and locked, I turned to see Scott's new car – a dark, red, Hyundai Sonata 2013 – parked in front of my house. Well...at least _he _didn't sprint over here.

* * *

Scott and I were parked in front of the newly-rebuilt Hale house in a matter of minutes. He didn't question me about what was wrong, instead filling the silence himself with random stories, which I would never care about. But I was grateful for the distraction. Even if it didn't help me. We both exited the car. I had just lifted my backpack onto my left shoulder, closing the passenger side door with my right hand, when I felt arms wrap around me from behind. I didn't say anything, just leant back into the warmth. Derek placed his chin on my shoulder, turning his head slightly to press his lips to my neck.

"What's wrong?" he asked, softly, voice just above a whisper.

"Don't worry about it." I croaked.

It was the first thing I had said all day. It was hard to talk when chocking on your tears. Even though I couldn't see him at this moment in time, I knew Derek was concerned. It was easy to tell after dating the Sourwolf for a year.

"Come on everyone's inside." Derek said, removing his arms from around me, taking my hand instead.

I let him drag me along by my hand, not saying nor doing anything else. I could practically feel the tension rolling off of Derek as we walked towards the house. I hadn't notice Scott leaving, but I should have expected it – especially if Allison was already here.

I could hear everyone talking loudly as we reached the front door. I could already tell by how the living was set up that it was going to be another one of those puppy-pilling-'bonding'-session thing. To be honest, I didn't think I could take it, but I would put up with it. At least for a little bit.

* * *

And that's exactly what I did. I sat there, saying nothing and sitting still, surrounded by everyone – aka Derek, Scott, Allison, Isaac, Danny, Jackson, Lydia, Erica, Boyd –, while watching episodes of Friends. Normally, I would be laughing and saying many of the quotes as they came up, but not today. Today, it just made me feel worse than before. It made me feel like curling up into a ball and crying.

It was after watching the tenth episode that I ended up standing and moving towards the door.

"Stiles...?" Allison called out after me.

I popped my head back round the corner of the door, giving her a questioning look.

"Everything ok?" she asked, gently.

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes. I needed to leave now.

"Just need some air." I forced out.

I near enough ran out of the house after that, jogging to the furthest edge of the forest that could still be seen from the house. I lumped against a tree, slowly sliding down it, burying my face into my knees as I drew them up against my chest. I encircled them with my arms, hugging them close. This was the crap-est day for me. _The _crap-est! For the seventh time since I woke up that day. I felt drained, sick, exhausted. I wanted my dad. I wanted my _mom_! Mom. That though just made everything twice as bad.

* * *

I had no idea how long I had been sitting there for but it must have been a while. The tears had stopped – for now – and someone was tapping me on my shoulder. I raised my head slightly, looking into the concerned face of Isaac. He said nothing, instead favoring with throwing an arm around my neck and just giving me a hug. I didn't resist, not even when he started to rub his face on my shoulder.

"I don't know what's wrong," Isaac muttered, quietly. "But I'm sorry."

"Don't be." I choked out, voice hoarse.

"I don't want you to be sad, mom."

I froze, tensing immediately. My expression blank, I slowly turned my face towards his. Isaac looked like a deer caught in headlights of a car; startled.

"What did you call me?" I asked, eerily calm...for now.

"I just mean that you're kind of like...pack mom." Isaac explained, removing his arm and standing up.

I followed him up, staring at him as Isaac took a step or two backwards.

"Don't call me that...ever." I told him, my throat constricting, painfully. "Just go back inside Isaac."

"But I..." Isaac started.

"Just go!"

"But..."

"GO!"

Isaac saw my grimace and apologetic look, before he turned around and ran back to the house. I may be angry, but I'm not an asshole that forgets what happened to one of his friends two years ago – especially since it was an abusive parent thing. I slumped against the tree again, just about ready to drop, when someone's hands were on my hips. I looked up to see Derek, staring at me, worriedly. I flopped forwards, burying my head into his neck and wrapping my arms around his neck. We just stayed like that for a while.

* * *

At some point, we ended up sitting on the ground again – Derek leaning against the tree with me leaning against his chest with his arms around me. He said nothing until he heard my heartbeat and breathing slow down.

"What's wrong?" Derek asked. "Don't say 'nothing', or 'don't worry about it', or whatever. This isn't like you."

I sighed. No point hiding it now...and I bet everyone else was listening in too.

"Eight years ago, so when I was ten, on this day...my mom died." I whispered. "It would also be her birthday today."

Tears started to gather again as I spoke. This was hard. Harder than I thought. Derek, seeming to realize this, tightened his hold on me. It physically and emotionally hurt talking about my mom sometimes. That was how much I missed her.

"A couple of days, after my eighth birthday...my mom started getting sick." I told Derek. "She said it was just a cold that was going around. I thought...we thought she was going to get better...but she only got worse. Within two weeks, she had lost _a lot_ of weight and was _so_ pale. I was scared. I didn't tell her that. Or dad. Or...anyone for that matter. What I did do was help take care of her. From the moment I got home from school, I was always by her side, helping her with whatever. _Especially_ when my dad wasn't home. He tried to get as much time off of work as he could...but he still had to work."

My throat felt like it was constricting. I cleared it, seeing if that would take some of the strain out of my voice. It didn't.

"For two years, she continued to get worse." I chocked. "Until, her birthday, two weeks after I turned ten. It was a Saturday and dad had to work. I woke up and checked on my mom. She was still asleep. So I got dressed, made breakfast, you know...the usual. I went upstairs with a tray for my mom. I placed it on the bedside table, before I climbed on the bed to wake her and help her sit up. When I touched her arm she didn't move. She wouldn't wake up. She was even paler that the night before and it didn't look like she was breathing. So I freaked out. I grabbed the phone off of the table next to the tray, trying to find my dad's cell phone number in the contacts."

I rubbed at my eyes with the heels of my hands, trying to clear my vision - crying for the eighth time that day, great!

"I called my dad. He was calm until I started panicking and asking him why mom wouldn't wake up, why mom looked so pale, why mom wouldn't talk to me." I continued. "Dad tried to get me to calm down. Telling me that he'd be home in five minutes. He got off the phone and I sat there. Just staring at my mom from where I was kneeling beside her. I kept telling myself that she was sleeping, that she would be ok. Looking back of it now, I know it's stupid, but I lay down next to her and wrapped her arm around me...like she would do when I was upset, or scared, or ill...or just because she wanted to. And I started crying, because I felt so guilty, like I knew it was my fault, something I had done. That's how my dad and the EMTs found me. I didn't want them to take her away, but I couldn't say anything. Dad just knelt down so he was eye level with me, hugging me. He had me faced away from her, so I couldn't see what they were doing. It was the first time I had seen my dad cry. _Ever_. I realised that I would have to take care of me dad, so I put on a brave face and tried to reassure him."

Tears rolled slowly down my cheeks each time I blinked – at least I wasn't making stupid noises, though.

"I never really had a proper chance to be _really _upset that she died. I had to be strong and look after my dad; otherwise he'd just fall apart. And I couldn't stand losing him too." I added, just as quietly, using the sleeve of my red hoodie to wipe at my face and eyes, sniffling slightly. "He's really the _only blood-related _family I have left."

I glanced back to see Derek wide eyed and staring at me. Silence rang out after that, and Derek just stared. I ended up turning back and just staring down at my lap, waiting for him to say something.

"God, I needed to tell somebody that." I mumbled, finally.

"No one else knows?" Derek asked, quietly, pulling my further onto his lap, his grip on me brutal. "Not even your dad?"

I shook my head.

"Didn't want him worrying even more." I whispered. "I didn't want him under more stress. He could have had a heart attack."

Derek sighed.

"I hate this day." I admitted, voice braking as I talked. "It was the day she was taken away from me, as well as _one _of the days that she loved."

"She would be proud of you." Derek whispered in my ear. "Proud that you stuck by your best friend when he needed you; proud for being as smart as you are; proud for caring so much about your dad and friends, even if a few of them were complete assholes to you before; proud because you are an amazing son and a brilliant friend. Not to mention, I love you."

I turned slightly, on his lap, hiding my face where his neck met shoulder. Derek kissed my forehead, tightening his hold even more – if possible.

"Love you too." I mumbled.

And we just sat there. Until it got dark. I apologised to Isaac, but he was fine with it. Turned out they all heard – well the other humans of the group were _told_. Nobody mentioned it though for the rest of the say. But, because I had finally gotten it all off of my chest, I could finally relax. Could finally enjoy the puppy pile – which was fun at times, I would admit. I could actually laugh and smile and talk now, without feeling like complete shit. I knew I could actually relax today, because people knew. They knew what today was, and they helped. A lot. Especially Derek.

Looking around at everyone – some sleeping, some joking around – I smiled. This was my new family. Derek's arm slid around my shoulders, pulling my into his side. I glanced up at him, still smiling lightly. He leant forward slightly, gently pressing his lips to mine for a few seconds, murmuring and 'I love you' in my ear. Yeah, I could make it through the day.

* * *

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